


Thunderstorm

by empressofmisrule



Category: Ylvis
Genre: AU - no wives or kids, Bad Weather, Camping, Damsel in Distress, F/M, Heterosexual Sex, Shameless Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-17
Updated: 2015-06-08
Packaged: 2018-02-09 05:04:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1970019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/empressofmisrule/pseuds/empressofmisrule
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's no such a thing as bad weather....</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Storm

The sky flashed brilliant white again for a split second, followed by a earth-shaking crash of thunder that makes you cower and cover your ears, sinking to the ground yet again. Your chest is burning from exertion and dry sobs of terror. 

You'd been craving some time alone, and the peace and solitude of a solo paddle through the fjords always helped before. There had been absolutely nothing in the weather reports about severe thunderstorms. You know, you had been checking right up to the moment you left your car and put the kayak into the water. 

You had been on the water for a couple of hours when the storm blew up and started immediately towards the shore when you heard the first rumble - but it came on so quickly you didn't get there in time. The sky darkened to midnight-black, and gale force winds began buffeting your kayak, making it nearly impossible to steer the light craft. Then the thunder and lightning cracked the sky open and the rain began bucketing down in sheets, reducing your visibility to zero. 

You focused your rising fear and panic into keeping yourself afloat and looking for the dark shapes of trees on the shoreline. You thought you saw a rocky shore becoming visible, then a violent jerk and splintering noise confirms that you've hit shore. The kayak has cracked down one side and water starts to seep in. You reach out with the paddle trying to pull the boat in but the water is still too choppy. The only thing to do is roll the kayak over and swim out. 

You manage to get to the shoreline without getting dashed against the rocks, and pull yourself out of the water. In addition to everything else, the temperature has dropped significantly. You are no longer in danger of drowning, but you're still in the open with lightning flashing overhead, and now the risk of hypothermia because you are soaking wet. You need to get away from the water and find someplace to shelter until the storm blows over. You push down the rising panic again and head into the woods, your teeth chattering. 

You don't know how long you stumbled through the trees, shivering and numb. Your entire being becomes focused on putting one foot in front of the other. You drop your pack and lifejacket when they become too heavy. You start to see shapes in between the trees, hear voices whispering under the noise of the falling rain. Your bones and muscles ache with the cold, and you want to just lie down and close your eyes - but way in the back of your mind, you know that's a danger sign. You stop to lean against a huge granite rock and rest.

A huge sheet of lightning illuminates everything for a moment and you think you see something through a clearing in the trees – a flash of red up on a hill. It's followed by a boulder-cracking thunderclap, but you pay no attention to it. You start walking in the direction of the clearing and the lightning strikes again. Yes, there is a red building there. With a light shining in the window. 

You gather what's left of your strength together, keeping your eyes trained in the direction you saw the building, and start up the hill. It might be a hallucination, but it's all you have to keep you going. You trip on the undergrowth a few times and fall more than once, but you never move your eyes from that spot. After a while you can see the outline of the red cabin through the rain, smell a fire burning, see the lantern in the window. 

Finally, you are at the door and use your remaining strength to pound as hard as you can. Then you fall to your knees, shivering and panting. The door opens, you hear a man's voice shout “Oh my god!” and then there are arms around you, bringing you up on your feet and inside the cabin. 

He starts talking to you quietly but nothing registers. You are shaking too much to answer anyway. He keeps talking while guiding you to a chair near the fireplace, goes to fetch towels and a fleece blanket. You sit rigidly while he squeezes the water out of your hair and wraps the towel clumsily around your head. You hear him say “You need to take those wet clothes off” and you try grabbing the bottom hem of your t-shirt, but your numb hands can't get a grip. He does it for you, covers you quickly with the towel and dries off your arms and back. Then he takes off his plaid flannel shirt and puts it around your shoulders. You manage to get your arms into the sleeves and clutch it around yourself. The shirt is still warm from his body and smells faintly of wood smoke. You get your wet cargo pants partway off but he has to finish and dry your legs for you too, then wraps them in the fleece blanket. 

He kneels down and asks “What's your name?” You open your mouth to reply but start sobbing uncontrollably instead from delayed shock and fear, still unable to believe you are actually out of the storm, dry and safe inside. He says “OK, I think you need to lie down and rest. I'm going to put you to bed. Come with me....” You let him help you up out of the chair and take you into the other room where the bed is. The bed looks very inviting, but you can't stop crying or let go of his arm. You stand there rooted to the spot, unable to move. “Don't leave me alone,” you choke out. 

“OK, OK. I'm not going anywhere. If you get in the bed I'll stay here with you until you fall asleep.” Gradually he coaxes you into the bed, still letting you hold onto him, and removing the wet towel from your hair. He tucks the fleece blanket around you and pulls the covers over both of you. You've stopped crying but you're still shivering a little. He lies on his side close by but not touching you, letting one hand rest on your shoulder and talking to you soothingly, like he's comforting a small child who had a nightmare. 

“Sshhhh, it's all right, you can relax now. You're safe here. Try and go to sleep, it will help.” 

“Thank you,” you whisper, and that't the last thing you remember.


	2. Shelter

Slowly, you come back to consciousness. You're enclosed in a warm embrace and hear faint breathing beside your ear. There's a trace of unease in the back of your mind – the remnants of a bad dream? But right now you're perfectly content. You settle deeper into the embrace, pushing your back against the body of the man holding you. He moves closer too, pressing his lower body against your buttocks. You return the pressure, and start to roll over towards him. 

Then the memory of how you got there surfaces completely and you wake with a jolt, heart pounding. He starts stirring, smiles, then his eyes widen with a start and he sits up, pulling the bedclothes up over his lap. 

The two of you stare at each other without speaking. This is the first good look you've had at him. You were in such a state when you first arrived that all you had were impressions, mostly of his soft voice and gentle hands. He's still wearing the white undershirt and grey sweatpants he had on when you went to bed. You look intently at his face, taking in the mop of unruly black curls, deep-set brown eyes, straight nose, strong jaw, full bottom lip, a few days' growth of stubble – he's gorgeous. As in stop-on-the-street-and-turn around-for-another-look type of gorgeous. But right now he looks absolutely mortified, and you know why. He got an erection when you snuggled back against him. You could feel it. 

He speaks first, stammering with nervousness. “I'm so sorry! You look like you're better but I hope you don't think....I didn't mean to fall asleep on you, I was just trying to...”

“Calm me down and bring my body core temperature back to normal, I know. It worked. I'm fine. I think I might owe you my life.” You take his hand but he's so upset he doesn't acknowledge your gratitude. His expression is making you want to laugh but you know you can't, it will only make him more self-conscious. And you do appreciate his concern – he's afraid you think he was trying to take advantage of the situation. But the thing is, you want him to. That's why you were rolling towards him as you woke up. 

You decide to try a gentle approach. “Look, if you're worried that I'm mad about...the way we woke up, I'm not. It was kind of nice, actually. I asked you to stay with me and you did. And you don't need to apologize“ - you nod in the direction of his lap - “for that either, it's a normal physiological reaction to close contact. It's cool, really.” This just makes him turn redder. Oh for fuck's sakes, you think, enough already. Time to grasp the nettle, so to speak. 

You take a deep breath and look right at him. “OK. I can't think of a tactful way to say this so I'll be direct. If you want to...” you slide your hand down the front of his pants and gently stroke his erect penis, which makes him jump “put this to use, you can. Or not. If you really don't want to, I won't push you.” 

He rolls his eyes upwards, gives a strangled sigh and squeaks out “Wanting to isn't the issue.” 

“Then stop worrying about it. I think our bodies have already decided this is going to happen.”

He opens his mouth to reply but you stop him with a kiss, still caressing his cock and balls inside his pants. He makes a small squawk that turns into a groan of surrender as you scoot in closer and hook your left leg over his right one, so your bodies are touching all the way down. You can feel the tension ebbing out of him as he stops resisting and lets his instincts take over. You reach around behind your back, undo your bra and pull it off, then start tugging his white undershirt up. He breaks the kiss to take it off, then embraces you firmly and rolls you over onto your back, settling his body on top of yours and kissing you again with more force while he wiggles out of the sweatpants. 

His skin is so warm! His body radiates heat, almost like he's got a fever. His tongue is exploring your mouth now and his hands are moving down your body to your hips, hooking his thumbs under the waistband of your panties. You raise your hips up to help him and once he's gotten them off he slides his hands up the back of your legs to cup your buttocks. You open your legs wider to fold them around his and feel his hard cock against your pubic bone. 

He starts kissing down the side of your neck and you feel his stubble grazing your skin, sending a very different kind of shiver through you. He works his way down to your collarbone and starts kneading your breasts with both hands. When he pinches your nipples you gasp and feel a jolt of electricity connecting directly to your clitoris. His mouth reaches the top of your right breast then closes over the nipple and you moan and writhe around as he sucks on it firmly, flicking his tongue over the hard tip. 

The next thing you feel is his fingertips gently stroking your labial folds then entering your vagina, which is slippery with moisture. He slides them in and out while keeping his thumb on your clit and his mouth working on your nipple. The triple stimulation has you panting and your heart pounding in record time, and when the familiar tingle starts in your lower belly you claw his back and sink your teeth into his shoulder. You start to keen as your pleasure peaks and groan deep in your chest as the orgasm shoots through you. As your inner muscles squeeze his fingers and your hips buck with the aftershocks, you lift up your head and whisper in his ear “I need you inside me NOW.” 

As he raises himself up on his elbows you run your fingers through the dark hair on his chest and pinch a nipple just to see what it does to him. He smacks your hand playfully and says “let me concentrate!” You reach down to help guide his cock in, then cry out as you feel his full girth fill you up. He immediately freezes and asks “Am I hurting you?” “God no, it feels amazing!” you gasp out. “Don't hold back, go as hard as you want...”

He starts thrusting slowly at first, gauging your reactions. When you arch your back and lock your legs around his waist to pull him in deeper, he starts going faster and harder. “Oh god, you feel good,” he groans, burying his face in your neck, “so tight, so wet....” 

You can feel another orgasm building and when you're right on the edge, you start massaging your clit to get you over the top. He cries out as you convulse around his cock, your inner walls pulsating with the force of the orgasm. You can hear his breathing getting more ragged but then he stops and hisses “Get on top of me. I want to look at you when I come.” 

With one smooth motion he flips over onto his back and brings you up so you're straddling him and can see his face, which is flushed and contorted with an expression of mingled pleasure and pain. His eyes are open and his pupils are so dilated they look black. His hair is a wild tangle of curls and there's a sheen of sweat all over his torso. Every muscle in his neck is standing out as clenches his jaw, he grabs your hips tight and starts driving his cock in and out of your pussy with full force, slamming against your groin. You can tell it won't be long as he starts to grunt and push even faster. You watch his face go dark red and with one final upthrust he comes explosively, roaring and shooting his hot seed inside you. You can feel his cock twitching and you hold still while he starts to calm down, watching an expression of relief come over his face. He takes a deep breath, lets out a huge sigh and says “Holy shit,” which makes you start giggling. 

He starts laughing too, then makes a comical grimace as your giggles vibrate down your body and says “You can get down now if you want.” “Maybe I like it up here,” you reply, but you slide off and settle down at his right side, resting your head in the hollow of his shoulder and putting a hand on his chest. He puts an arm around you to pull you in closer and sighs again. “I really didn't plan this, you know.” 

“Will you stop that? I know you didn't. I didn't plan to get trapped in a thunderstorm and collapse outside your door either, it just happened.” 

“Yeah, now that you're awake I think I'd like to hear that story. You scared the crap out of me, you know. This place is at least 5 km from any passable roads, how the hell did you end up here?” 

“First things first. What's your name?”


	3. The Morning After

The sun shining full in your face wakes you up this time. For a moment you’re disoriented, then the memories of the past 24 hours hit you in a rush. The storm, the cabin emerging out of the rain like a fairytale refuge, your handsome rescuer Vegard (that is his name, which you finally got around to asking during your post-coital conversation) and the explosive sexual chemistry that caught you both by surprise. 

The two of you had talked until the sky began lightening to pearl gray, then made love again. It didn’t have the raw urgent need of the first time, but the desire was no less potent. Once he rolled off you, sweaty and sated, you both fell asleep almost immediately. 

The bed is empty now, but the musky scent of sex lingers in the room. You sneeze violently as the sunlight hits you right in the eyes, which shakes you out of your dream state and makes you aware of other physical needs. You’re so hungry you could gnaw your own arm off and you really need to visit the bathroom. 

You thought you were feeling OK, until you swung your feet onto on the floor and tried to stand up. Your quads and calf muscles are shrieking in protest and your feet are aching and stiff. You hope he has some kind of painkillers handy, otherwise you will be hobbling around like an ancient crone all day.

Once you get upright and moving your cramped muscles loosen up a bit. You poke your head in the bathroom and see a tiny sink and shower head in the corner but no toilet. Oh joy, you get to go outside to relieve yourself. Now you have to go back in the bedroom and look for your clothes too. You consider just peeing in the sink but decide that’s rude, and anyway you’re not sure you can position yourself properly in your current physical condition.

You shuffle back to the bedroom to retrieve your underwear from the rumpled bed and when you come back into the main room you notice he’s hung your pants and t-shirt on a rack by the fireplace. They’re dry and still a bit warm. You put them on, slide your feet into a pair of flip flops left by the door and open it to go outside. 

It takes a few moments for your eyes to adjust to the brilliant sunlight. The cabin is built in a clearing with a huge granite slab in the front “yard” – you can see Vegard at the edge of the stone picking up branches that were downed by yesterday’s storm. He drops them onto a pile he’s collected and heads in your direction. His eyes are hidden by a pair of aviator sunglasses but his smile is warm as he comes towards you. “Sleep well?”

“Yes, thanks.” You try to return the smile but the bright sunlight is making you squint and it feels more like a grimace. “I really need to use the, uh, facilities though.”

He grins and jerks his head towards a patch of trees on the edge of the clearing. “The ‘special’ cabin is over there. 

As you get closer to the privy you take a pre-emptive deep breath and start breathing through your mouth. Inside you are pleasantly surprised to find a proper toilet –one of those composter units that doesn’t smell. 

You head back to the house feeling considerably relieved, and Vegard shouts to you from the pile of branches that there’s food in the kitchen for breakfast and to make yourself at home. Inside you set the kettle to boil on the gas camping stove and find raisin buns, butter and a slab of brunost on the counter along with a bag of tangerines. There’s also a first-aid kit with a small bottle of Ibux in it, thank god – though you scald your mouth gulping it down with hot tea. 

After eating two buns with butter and cheese, a tangerine and a Kvikk Lunsj chocolate bar you found inside the bread box, you feel a little more like yourself again, and a whiff under your arm suggests that maybe it’s time to try washing. You throw your clothes back over the fireplace rack and find a couple of thin towels hanging on the back of the bathroom door. 

The shower unit has a propane water heater attached to it – bless him, although you’re sure the relative who originally built the cabin wouldn’t approve of such decadence. The grooming aids are Spartan too – just a bottle of three-in-one hair and body wash on the shower shelf, but there’s also a mini bottle of conditioner and a comb. He must need it to keep those curls under control. You wash up quickly so you don’t waste too much of his water supply and squeeze your hair out well before drying yourself off. 

You get a quick look at yourself in the small cracked mirror over the sink while trying to get the comb through the ends of your hair but vanity seems out of place after everything else that’s happened. He saw you looking like a drowned rat and barely able to get a word out, but it didn’t seem to matter. You can’t help smiling at yourself as you think about the night before. The shock and terror of being caught in the storm is already a distant memory and replaced with a giddy euphoria. 

You put your clothes on again and remember seeing a small bottle of olive oil in the kitchen – that will help your tangled hair. You pour out a bit in your palms and rub it into the ends of your hair, combing them smooth. You’d like to pin it up but that’s impossible, so you wind it into a loose side braid and leave the end unsecured. 

Now that you’re feeling somewhat human again the sunshine lures you back outside. All trace of yesterday’s storm has vanished and it’s an intoxicatingly beautiful day. The air is soft and warm with just a hint of crispness underneath – over the tops of the forest you can see the water shimmering in the distance. A gentle breeze rustles the leaves of the trees and carries a faint scent of pine which you inhale with a sigh of appreciation. 

Vegard has finished collecting all the downed branches and is splitting the bigger ones into firewood with a hatchet. He smiles again as you make yourself a seat on the pile of logs stacked alongside the wall and give yourself over to the pleasure of watching him work. He’s stripped down to the white undershirt, and his chest and shoulders are gleaming as he swings the hatchet down over and over again, arm muscles rippling. You are sitting partially in the shade and it gets a bit chilly, so you pick up his discarded down vest and put it on. 

He stops for a breather, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand and resting his knee up on the stump where he’s been splitting the branches. 

“You look better.” 

“I feel a lot better, thanks. Some food and a shower went a long way.”

“How about that early morning workout?”

You blush in spite of yourself and look at him sideways, one side of your mouth scrunched up in a wry half-grin. “Yeah, that probably helped too. I’m a little sore, though.”

That makes him laugh and he turns his attention back to wood-chopping. “Now that you mention it, I’m a little sore too. You feel like taking over while I watch you work?”

“Oh, but you’re soooo good at it” you coo in an exaggeratedly feminine voice. Then continuing in your normal tone, “and anyway, I’m a clod at the best of times. Giving me anything with a sharp edge is a bad idea if you enjoy having all your limbs intact.” You notice the position of the sun and conclude it’s near midday. “I could bring you out something for lunch if that’ll help.” 

He likes that plan, so you go back in and find a small cooler in the corner of the kitchen with more supplies. About ten minutes later you’re back outside with a couple of ham sandwiches on a plastic plate, a bottle of lemonade and a peeled tangerine. He’s finished chopping and stacking the wood and sits down in your seat on the woodpile, moving a few more logs to the top layer to make space for you to sit beside him. He pulls his flannel shirt back on and takes the plate from you. 

You sit in companionable silence for a bit while he eats. You’re sitting so close together that the outside of your hip and thigh is touching him and you can smell his scent - clean sweat, sunshine and fresh air. He looks over at you with his mouth full and smiles, squeezing you just above the knee to express his approval of lunch. 

Once he’s finished the sandwiches and had a drink he says “I guess we need to figure out how to get you back home, since you can’t exactly retrace your steps again. Do you remember where you left your car?” 

“Of course,” you say a little more sharply than you intended. “I left it in a public park right beside the water” and tell him the name. His eyebrows shoot up. “You did get a long way! That’s over 5K from here.”

“Not that it does me any good though, I lost my keys when I dropped my pack in the woods, and that could be anywhere. I lost my phone too.” 

“What’s that?” he says, tapping a lump in the pocket of your pants that is pressed against his leg. 

You gasp and open the pocket flap – it’s your car keys! “Shit, I don’t believe it! Occasionally I get things right. So now I just have to get back to the car.”

“That’s not a problem. I can fly you to the end of the trail that leads to the park 

It takes a moment to register what he said. “Did you just say fly? As in a plane?”

“Yes,” he says, in a tone that indicates being able to fly a plane from your cabin is totally normal. 

“You can fly a plane.”

“Yes…” he says again, in a tone that suggests you’re a bit dim. “I got a pilot’s license about seven years ago. I can take five hours to drive here or I can fly it in one and a bit. It’s a used de Havilland Beaver that belonged to my grandfather. That’s how he got all the material here to build the cabin in the first place.”

“There’s a plane here?? Where are you hiding it? 

“It’s moored in a shelter down at the dock. I checked it this morning while you were asleep, it’s fine.” 

“Sorry to keep repeating myself, but you say this as though everybody has a plane they can fly themselves at their disposal. Is there anything else I should know about? You’re a secret agent maybe, or you’re working on a cure for cancer?”

He laughs and starts to get up. “I think the sun is getting to you. Come on, I have to wash and I’d like to relax for a bit before we have to pack up to leave. You can get the fire going again.”

Back inside, you build up the fire while he goes into the bathroom to shower. The cabin’s main room is small but airy, furnished with a wood-frame settee, a rocking chair and a round dining table in the corner. And a deerskin rug in front of the hearth, of course. Once the fire is crackling merrily you sit in the corner of the settee closest to the fireplace and curl your legs under you, savouring the warmth and the scent of the pine logs. 

Vegard comes back into the room wearing black boxer shorts and a red T-shirt with “Stonehenge – Est. 3000 BC” printed on the front. He sits at the other end of the settee and stretches his legs out over your lap. He asks you something but you’re not really paying attention – you’re too distracted by the muscular calves across your lap and start stroking his legs gently around the knees. 

He keeps talking as your hands move of their own accord up to the well-shaped thighs, massaging his quad muscles. You unfold your legs and stretch out on your belly, and start running your tongue up his inner thigh, which finally breaks his stream of one-way conversation. He chuckles from somewhere deep in his chest as you get closer to the substantial bulge in the front of his boxers, but you decide to tease him a bit and burrow under the Stonehenge t-shirt instead. He sighs and shivers as you lick and pinch his nipples, then kiss your way down his chest to his bellybutton. 

He starts to squirm but you stop tantalizingly just above his waistband, kissing and nipping gently at his belly. You can feel his iron-hard erection through the thin fabric of the boxers, and when he lets out a frustrated yelp as you brush it with your hand, you decide he’s been teased enough. You pull out the waistband so it doesn’t catch on the head of his straining cock and tug the boxers off him. You kneel on the floor in front of the couch and he sits upright facing you. He leans forward and pulls your shirt off over your head so your breasts are exposed, then splays his thighs apart and settles back into the cushions. 

You cradle his balls in your left hand and stroke the shaft of his cock in your other hand a few times before closing your mouth over the tip and flicking it lightly with your tongue. You run it around the edge of the head and over the little slit on the end, then take the whole length into your mouth. He tastes soapy clean and his dark pubic hair is still a little damp from the shower. He laces his fingers gently through your hair and murmurs encouragement as you work your mouth up and down his pulsing organ, taking it in further each time. 

As he gets more aroused he takes over the pace, pushing his hips against your face and moving his cock in and out of your mouth with increasing speed. You can tell he’s getting close to the edge and try to relax your throat and neck in anticipation of his climax. 

His hip movements are becoming jerky and his grip on your head tightens. You open your throat as wide as you can when he cries out “herrejesus!” and releases his cum into your mouth. You keep licking and sucking as his groans subside, then ease your mouth off his cock. He smiles down at you, then pulls you up onto his lap and kisses you deeply, licking his own essence off your lips and probing your mouth with his tongue. He strokes your naked back, squeezes your breasts and flicks your nipples with his thumbs before sliding a hand down the waistband of your trousers and working his fingers into the slippery cleft between your legs. “Lie down on the rug,” he whispers hoarsely in your ear. 

You obey wordlessly, unable to concentrate on anything other than the pulse throbbing in your nether regions. He deftly removes your pants and his shirt and pushes your knees apart, burying his head between your thighs. You gasp as his stubble chafes your inner thighs and rub your pelvis against his face as his tongue laps expertly around your clit and he pushes two fingers into your pussy to stroke the rough spot on the upper wall that always puts you over the edge. You are still sensitive from the night before and when you climax it’s so intense and drawn-out that you scream his name over and over.

Vegard pushes himself up on his arms and crawls up your body until his torso is pressing yours down into the soft deerskin rug. He kisses your neck and nibbles at your earlobes, maneuvering himself between your legs, where you can feel that – incredibly – he’s hard again. You tilt your hips slightly and he slides right in with a grunt. Your vaginal walls are still a bit swollen and his cock feels huge inside you. 

All traces of your surface selves are gone now and you claw and bite at each other, growling like a couple of mountain cats in heat. You come again and rake your fingernails across his back – he roars, pulls out and orders you onto your hands and knees. He pushes into you roughly and slams against your ass with every thrust – you push back against him and clamp down on his cock each time he enters again. His grunts turn into ragged shouts and he comes with a throat-tearing howl, his pelvis shaking with the force of his orgasm.

You let yourself fall face down into the rug and go completely limp. A few moments pass then you feel him gently gathering your body into his, spooning himself against you. You’re both steaming hot, covered in sweat again and you can feel his heart pounding against your back. 

Gradually your breathing returns to normal and you just rest quietly together, not speaking. 

You don’t know how long you lie there but the sunlight coming in the windows begins to slant, lengthening the shadows. Vegard squeezes your shoulder and says, “We have to go before it gets dark.” Sighing inwardly, you pull on your clothes and help him pack up quickly, piling the boxes outside the door to take down to the plane. He makes sure the fire is out and meets you at the door. 

Standing in the doorway, the two of you look at each other for a long moment. Vegard takes your face in his hands, stroking his thumbs against your cheeks and kissing you lingeringly. He touches his forehead to yours as you put your hands on his shoulders, and he says “This is not how I expected this weekend to go at all, but I wouldn’t change a thing. Will you come up again…please?”

You shift your head so your mouth is right beside his ear and answer. “Of course. Thunderstorms wouldn’t keep me away.”


End file.
